Russian Roulette
by tears-of-a-different-shade
Summary: It was only a matter of time before the gun fired. Not a great summary, I know, but it's a short story so there's not much to say. Death fic. Oneshot. Angst and pain! Warning: There is character death! Read and review, please and thank you!


Well, this is a fic I originally posted on the Supernatural fan forums. It's my fourth fanfic (I believe), but, my first oneshot and my first death-fic. A little depressing, I know, but please read and review if you can!

**Warning:** This story includes character death and profane language.

**Disclaimer:** No…no, I do not own them…I just own that pair of handcuffs chaining Sammy to my bed…

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**Russian Roulette **

_"I see them with their gone looks and dead eyes...no one should have to wonder 'Is this the day I'm gonna' get shot?' That thought passes through my mind every morning. I look in the mirror and I don't recognise the person staring back at me..."_ **- Tasha Fischer (Grade 10 Monologue) - Love ya' babe!**

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My brother and I…our life has always been like a game of Russian roulette. Every time we went on a hunt, we'd wonder if that was going to be the day. We'd wonder if this time, when the chamber stopped spinning, would there be a bullet waiting at the end of the barrel. 

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We're hunting a poltergeist, just the two of us. Our father passed on a while ago. Certainly not the hardest job we've ever had, but it has its risks.

I came face to face with those risks about five seconds ago when the damned thing threw me into a bookshelf. Why can't they ever haunt a mattress factory?

I hear my brother scream my name, but the attack has left me a little winded and I can't seem to find my voice.

"I'm alright!" is what I'd say if I could, "Just finish the cleansing!"

But I can't and my brother's too worried about me to think about anything else.

**So the chamber spins.**

I watch in horror as he's thrown into a wall...and suddenly get my second wind. I'm up in a flash, determined to finish this before anything worse happens.

**And fate's finger is tightening on the trigger.**

So intent on finishing the job, I don't see the knife rising up behind me.

**The trigger is pulled.**

The knife is thrust into my back just as I thrust the last cleansing bag into the wall. There is a bright flash of light and the poltergeist's screams of pain drown out my own.

As the light fades, I hear the groans that tell me that my brother is returning to consciousness. Relieved, I am now able to concentrate on my own wounds, hating the way my breaths come out in short, pain filled gasps. I hear a different type of gasp and know that my brother has seen the knife.

"I'm okay," I manage, "It's a flesh wound."

Unwilling to take my word for it, he comes over and makes his own inspection.

"You'll live," he mutters, though his eyes are bright with - only partially masked - worry.

"Yeah," I agree, "But the stitches are gonna' hurt like a bitch."

He grimaces and nods.

**Click.**

**Misfire.**

**We'll both live to see another day.**

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We're hunting a werewolf; it's been terrorizing a small town over the last couple of months. Our guns are loaded with silver bullets, we're plenty prepared, but there's always a risk.

**So the chamber starts its spin.**

My hunting skills are finely tuned. It takes only a second for me to figure out that it's been stalking us the same way we've been stalking it.

But even a second can be one second too late.

**And there goes the trigger.**

I hear my brother's pain filled scream. I turn to see the creature on top of him, fully intending to rip him to shreds.

And, even in the dark, I can see the blood. So much damned blood, splattered across my brother's skin...he looks so pale in the moonlight.

I raise my gun and fire the silver bullet into the wolf's heart. No hesitation. There's always the risk of hitting my brother, but, if I don't shoot, he's dead any way.

The wolf gives one last tragic howl before collapsing to the ground, morphing back to its human form.

I push the body aside; it can be dealt with later. My only concern at the moment is my brother, lying on the ground, soaked in his own blood.

My fingers search for a pulse...and find one.

The relief I feel then is indescribable...it's such a wonderful feeling it's almost like a high.

**Click.**

I will get him to a hospital shortly. He'll be in bad shape, but he'll be okay.

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Our lives were always just a dangerous game of chance. There was no safety on that gun, no way of stopping it from firing. We knew this, but we went on anyway.

Still, we never really did expect it to fire. We expected to be able to play that dangerous game forever. We got cocky, we thought we were invincible.

So, when it finally did, it was a shock.

One hell of a wake up call...and the after shock threatened to tear my world apart.

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I'd always expected, that if we were gonna' go, it'd be being killed by something supernatural.

That wasn't the case.

An anguished roar was ripped from my throat, mercilessly tearing past the wall of my lips the moment I saw the car hit my brother.

The only person that mattered in my life...my brother, best friend, confident...torn away from me by some woman who was too busy fussing over her make-up to look where she was going.

And, God, as I cradled my brother's broken body in my arms, I knew that this was it. The gun had finally fired.

There was no mistaking that hollow bang.

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So now I sit here, on one of two identical motel room beds - I didn't have the heart to get just one - my gun held in my hand. I stare at it in almost superstitious awe. Here in my hand is the secret to ending it all. This cold hard weight can take away all my pain.

But a part of me is reluctant. I know that my brother would not have wanted me to do this. He would have wanted me to go on. To save people...to hunt things...doing what _we_ always did best. Most of all, he would have wanted me to live.

But I'm alone now. Everybody I've ever loved, taken from me by one thing or another. I always worried about losing my brother to the same demon that had taken everyone else, but I should have been watching for more _normal_ dangers.

The thought of pulling this trigger, of putting and end to the ache in my useless heart...and maybe even being with my brother again...is so tempting.

But I am not quite sure what to do.

Finally, I come to a decision.

I unload all the bullets from the gun...all but one.

I spin the chamber, cock the gun, and press the muzzle to my head.

I've spent all my life this way, why not end it like this too?

"Let's play a little Russian roulette."

I close my eyes as I squeeze the trigger...and wait to see if I'll live or die.

**End.**

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Any reviews you guys could leave would be much appreciated! **


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